


This Flame That Burns Inside Of Me

by Ziahra



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Bullying, Hiding, Homophobia, Hunted, John has invisibility, M/M, Poison, Roger is bisexual, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Violence, although he doesn’t know that yet, and he can phase, brian controls nature, brian’s the only straight, fear of being outed, freddie’s Gay ofc, freddie’s singing is hypnotic, john is demi bi, powers au, roger can control time, supernatural people aren’t accepted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2019-10-26 23:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17755412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ziahra/pseuds/Ziahra
Summary: People with powers are not accepted in this society. Those who helped hide their child’s abilities are sentenced to a life in prison, and the child is a test subject. Destined to a life of misery.John, Roger, Freddie and Brian all dislike hiding their abilities, but they don’t want to risk the ones they love. So they stay hidden, even from each other.But then a supernatural hunter comes to town, and all four boys are at risk.





	1. Life Still Goes On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even staying very well hidden, you’re never safe. John finds evidence a supernatural hunter may be in the school.

John’s feet moved at a comfortable pace, yet not lifting far off the ground. His eyes searched the lonely halls of the afternoon, catching every shimmer of an object, scowling at every movement. It wasn’t much further than his locker.

Passing the blue safe, arms still wrapped tightly around his binder folder, he slowed his movements, glancing behind him. His eyes darted around the hallway, sinking in everything. It was here. He saw one earlier that day, and he had to prove his suspicions.

It was an inhuman object. A Bleeder. It’s a small object holding a faint red glow, as soon a someone who radiates different energy to a regular human passes, the faint glow turns blue. His eyes had caught it when getting pushed by the crowds, yet he didn’t focus in time to avoid the detector. His eyes continued searching the echoing hallway, his footsteps bouncing loudly off the walls.

Only, he was no longer moving. Those footsteps didn’t belong to himself.

He spun around to find the source of sound, meeting only an empty hallway which he’d trudged down. He turned to spy ahead of him, yet no one was there. But the echo of footsteps sounded closer and John couldn’t take the noise. 

He jumped to the side, pushing himself into the small corner where the row of lockers ended. Chances were that the body was behind him, as he looked ahead at the light spewing through the large exit doors 20 meters ahead of him, letting in the warm afternoon sun.

As soon as he was sure the footsteps source had not seen him, he squeezed his eyes shut, before allowing his power to take over his body. He felt it more than anything. His whole body dropped a few degrees colder as he slipped into an unseeable form. The slight coolness told him he’d activated his power.

Admittedly it had been a few months since he had used his power - or this part of it. He didn’t like wasting it on situations he didn’t need it for. His brain did remind him that it was quite a useless situation now, activating his invisibility from hearing footsteps, something he’s heard plenty of in his entire life.

Obviously he’d known he wasn’t the last person at the school. After school clubs were running in classrooms and many teachers stayed on the property at least 30 minutes after the home bell rings.

Just the fact that the footsteps sounded unwelcoming, and he couldn’t hear them until he was stopped and searching for the object he’d spotted earlier that day when pushed around by a crowd. Yet the fact that he could only hear the footsteps after he’d stopped meant two things: either the person had started walked immediately after he’d stopped, or they were matching his own footsteps - whether intensionally or not. The thought of intensional footsteps matching sent a shiver down the back of John’s neck, and not the chill he got from using his invisibility. Something cold and unwelcoming.

John was still hidden in the small corner at the end of the locker row, even though he was invisible. He could easily step into the middle of the hallway and continue his search, just moving away if the person decides to come that way to avoid them bumping into something they can’t see.

It was just too risky, he convinced himself.

It was just the device he needed to destroy. Wouldn’t take much, just to be stomped on. Chances are people would think the destroyed object had fallen off the wall somehow and walked over by kids who couldn’t care less. Or he could just take the bleeder home, burry it somewhere. Destroy the evidence that someone like him was at that school.

Not when the hunt for supernatural people was a top priority.

John tapped his foot lightly on the ground. He needed to steal the Bleeder, but he was not emerging from his safe haven until the footsteps were gone. 

It was a matter of minutes. The echoing sound of footsteps getting increasingly loud, hearing the thumping in his head until he watched feet followed by a dark shadow walk into his view.

He held is breath, looking up at the source. It was nothing like he expected.

The figure was wearing black boots and blue bell-bottom jeans which was normal. Except for the fact that halfway up his thigh was the bottom of some scrappy black cloth. The black cloth covered the persons whole chest and arms, not covering their hands positioned towards their neck to clamp the material together. The cloth reached all the way to their head, hiding their hair, and across their mouth. The only patches of skin on their body visible was their hands, eyes and nose.

John looked at the figures eyes and they came to a halt immediately infront of him. The figures head turned towards where he was positioned, and part of John wondered if he was invisible still. He quickly glanced down to find no body or anything. No evidence to the human eye that he was there. 

Yet when he glanced back at the figure they were looking straight into his eyes, their eyes brown and for a second John thought they were gold, he blamed it on the warm sun. It almost looked as if the figure could see him. Knew he was there.

But then the figure shook their head and continued further down the hallway a few steps, stopping again and then finishing their way down to the large exit doors.

Once John could no longer hear the receding footsteps, he peaked out from his hidden spot, before stepping out, still invisible. He walked forward a few steps, looking around for the faint blue glow.

Yet when he found the bleeder, it wasn’t glowing blue, it was the same red glow as he’d seen it before passing it. His eyebrows furrowed, not wanting to step any closer to the device. Why wasn’t it glowing blue? He watched the light flicker after being pushed past it.  
Did someone already find it and reset it? Who was that cloaked person? 

John sighed, turning on his heel. If it was already reset then people were aware of him, yet if it hadn’t there was no point on activating it a second time. 

John kept his invisible form as he trudged back down the hallway, reaching another exit before stepping out into the cool autumn afternoon.

~ ~ ~

Roger hated the laws for supernatural humans.

He sat on a small blue couch, squeezed into his messy room, which beside it was his desk, and across from him was his drum kit. His bed was pressed against the wall near his couch. A crumpled newspaper lay in his hand, as he read the article on supernatural people.

People with powers were uncommon and hunted down by the government. You were to turn your child in at the first signs of magic. Those who keep their child hidden earn themselves a lifetime in prison or community service. That’s why keeping his powers a secret was such a priority to him.

Roger loved his powers. He wanted to show them off. He didn’t think it was right that he had to hide a part of who he was. If it didn’t directly put his family at risk, he probably would say “fuck the government” and do what he wanted, because where was their power to stop him?

He looked down at the crumpled paper, evidence of his father using it as an ash tray could be seen, and smelt. Roger knew he tried to hide such articles from him, but Rog always found a way to find the crumpled balls of paper.

Roger sighed, tucking the paper in his pocket to throw back in the bin. He stood, brushing his black jeans off before looking outside, fancying a walk in the nice Friday afternoon.

Roger grabbed the black coat resting on the arm of his couch, leaving his house with a soft close of the door.

It was colder outside than he anticipated, yet it wasn’t cold enough to run back in and grab a scarf. Roger trudged down the street, jumping up on the curb and balancing like a little kid. He watched his shoes step over each other, fascinated somewhat by it.

He jumped down to cross the road, to the beautiful park.

The park was aligned with golden trees, losing their leaves. They’d fall softly to the ground, landing on top of one another and creating a gold-brown carpet for the pathway surrounding the park. Roger entered it, stepping slowly, imagining him and his future lover walking on this very path, kissing under the orange leaves as they danced around them.

Roger sighed at the thought. It would be nice to talk to someone about everything. Just rant out about nothing and everything. Someone to show his power to and only receive love and acceptance. And maybe - just maybe - that person would share in his suffering, and show him their power too.

He breathed in the cool autumn air, his hair raising and flowing with the wind. He turned his head, taking in the warm coloured view from his left.

He saw a boy appear from behind a tree. Roger furrowed his brows, as he had not spotted the boy earlier, but decided to drop his confusion immediately. He probably was focused too much on the autumn-struck park.

When the boy turned his head, brunette hair softly trailing in the wind and green-grey eyes riddled with overthinking, he recognized the boy from a few of his classes. Roger scrunched his face in concentration, trying to bring forth a memory of the boy’s name.

Roger stopped walking, before raising his hands to cup around his rosy lips before calling out a name. “Deaky! John Deaky?”

The boy whipped his head around quickly, spotting Roger after a few seconds of blind searching. He gave Rog a slight smile, and a tiny wave of his hand, before dropping it to his side and looking ahead.

Roger shuffled over to the boy, kicking brown leaves in the process until he was beside him. “It is John, right?”

“John Deacon.” He smiled.

“Roger Taylor.” Roger said, feeling a bit rude for not mentioning his name.

“I know.” Roger tilted his head, and John brought his hands up to his chest, holding them out a few centimeters before shaking them wildly. “I mean, everyone knows of you, and we’re in a few subjects together.”

Roger smiled, slightly bumping his hip on John’s, making the taller boy stumble slightly. He saw the boy smile and shake his head slightly from the corner of his eye.

That was it, the only dialogue the two shared for the remainder of the walk. Roger didn’t mind, having the company beside him was perfect. Roger let his eyes stumble over the trees, all mixtures of oranges, golds and browns yet in his own blurred vision they came together to form small fuzzy clouds on stumps of brown. It was still beautiful.

John was the one who bid the first goodbye and Roger nodded, waving at the boy and thanking him for the walk.

When Roger finally made it back to his house, the sun was falling, creating a sky of pink and yellow. Something in his pocket felt heavy and he reached in his pocket to find the crumpled newspaper.

He sighed, looking around the streets, ducking into an alleyway close to his house. He held out the scrunched paper, his hand hovering above it.

He turned his hand slightly, and the paper speedily aged, before decaying eventually and crumbling into nothing. Roger wiped his hands on his jeans, scowling slightly as one was pruny and wrinkled from the use of his power. He hated it, but it would wear off in a minute. He looked around again before setting for the few extra steps home.

~ ~ ~

Freddie sighed for what felt like the tenth time that minute. He sat, tapping a pen on a piece of paper. He’d scribbled a drawing of Jimi Hendrix, and beside it a clump of words which could end up being lyrics.

“So, are you going to be a famous artist or a singer, Fred?” Tim called. Freddie looked over at him through his long black hair. Tim lay on Freddie’s bed, tossing a red ball up and down. He didn’t move to face him, but he could tell he was waiting.

“I think that’s a question for the both of us, Dear. Besides, I can’t be a singer.” Freddie sighed, looking down at the lyrics next to his drawing. He wrote the word ‘liar’ underneath the previous line, though he wasn’t sure if he was calling himself a liar or not.

“Why?” Tim asked. Freddie heard the ball tossing come to a stop and he turned his head to see Tim staring at him.

Freddie turned back to his scribble of words. “You bloody well know why.”

He heard Tim sit up, and in less than a second he was next to his ear.

“Not in here!” Freddie yelped, grabbing a rolled news paper and wacking Tim on the arm for using super speed indoors. “You know it blows all my papers up!” 

Freddie gestured around the room, artworks and lyric papers were all slowly falling after the sudden gust of air.

Tim smiled. “Sorry.” He giggled, before sitting on Freddie’s desk, ignoring the hand swatting him down.

“For the record, I think you’re voice is lovely.” Tim mentioned, and Freddie tore his eyes from his work to look a Tim smiling down at him.

Freddie scoffed after about a minute of eyes locking. “My voice is bloody brilliant. It’s just that I’m a siren on two legs. Every lyric that I sing gets everyone in the room hypnotized and my personal zombies. I don’t like controlling people. They should do things of their own free will.”

Tim nodded. “Well, pros of it would be everyone singing and dancing in unison.” 

Freddie gave him an unamused look, turning back to his work. Tim sighed. “Learn to control it.” Freddie glared up at him for the passive aggressive comment. “No, I mean, I don’t run at super speed every time I take a step faster than walking pace. I’m sure if you sang a lot you’d learn when you’re power is activated.”

“Who would I practice it on?” Freddie asked.

“Me, I guess.” Tim smiled down at Fred. 

Tim sat still. “Wait, now?”

Tim shrugged, “why not?”

Freddie looked up at him questionably, before sighing and opening his mouth to sing the scribbled lyrics.

“I’ve sinned dear father,” Freddie sang. A wave of emotion piled over him the moment the first word came out of his mouth and suddenly he was singing beautifully. 

“Father I have sinned.” Freddie’s eyes fluttered closed as he continued singing the very few lines he’d scribbled down. He made up a few lines as he went on, finishing with one big “Liar!”

He opened his eyes, to see Tim’s blank look staring back at him. Freddie let out a groan, clicking his fingers in Tim’s face to knock him out of the trance.

Freddie turned back to his paper, not bothering to pick up the pen.

“How’d you do it?” Tim asked after a moment of silence.

“Do what? Put you in a trance? I don’t know! I just sing and it-“ Freddie rambled, frustrated from his power blocking his talent.

“-No! I mean, how did you knock me out of it?” Tim cut him off.

Freddie looked at the boy. “Clicking.” He shrugged. Tim smiled, waiting for Freddie. It was only a few seconds before he caught on. “Clicking! That’s it! Oh my God thank you!” Freddie squealed gleefully.

Blame it on no impulse control, and Freddie’s over excited state, he leapt forward into Tim, bumping their lips together.

Both boys froze, tense muscles against tense muscles, faces inches away from each other.

Freddie was the first one to come to his senses, ripping himself away from his best friend and walking backward. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

“Freddie! It’s fine!” Tim wasn’t entirely sure why Freddie was freaking out so much. He was straight and it didn’t have to mean anything, unless...

“Freddie, are you gay?” Freddie’s eyes flicked to Tim’s, and just from the look Tim knew he’d assumed right. 

Freddie turned around, voice softer, “I think you should go. I’m sorry I kissed you, I didn’t mean to I-“

“Freddie!” Tim called, and he could see the scared look in Freddie’s eyes. He wasn’t crying, but he was worried. Worried of judgment, of rejection.

“Freddie, it’s okay. I don’t mind.” Freddie looked up at him, a smile creeping onto his face. Tim jumped down from Fred’s desk and walked over to the boy. He wrapped his arms around him, swaying slightly. Freddie needed to know he accepted him. 

Freddie had a lot of things to be worried about. He loved wearing makeup and sparkly clothes for one. He was gay secondly, and on top of that he had powers. He knew very few people would accept him.

One day though, he’d wear it out on his chest. Let everyone know he was proud of all these things. They weren’t his flaws, it was just part of who he was. 

He knew that already. He already was proud of the man he was. Just right now, in this pocket of time where the only thing he should be worrying about was next Friday’s math test, he wasn’t ready to let everyone else know.

A part of him wondered if Tim really did care. Did Tim actually accept him or was he saying it in the moment? Did he leave his house later that night exposing him? 

Freddie didn’t think so. The boy had his secrets too. One he shared with Freddie and understood the fear of being known.

Maybe Freddie would never had thought of these things, of Tim’s betrayal as he called it. Tim never really did betray him, it was just the thoughts that plagued Freddie’s head. Maybe he never would’ve thought that way, but part of him did believe those paranoid thoughts.

Because that night was the last time he ever saw Tim.

~ ~ ~

Brian let his feet walk him through the park. He didn’t know where he was going, just somewhere deep and secluded.

His thoughts bugged him constantly. He hated hiding. Why couldn’t he be treated like a normal person for having powers. They all walked the same, looked the same, thought the same. Just because magic ran through his veins he was a freak. And he had to stay hidden.

Brian sat down in the middle of the park, hidden by golden trees. It was the only part of the park he could use his power freely without feel of being caught.

Brian’s feet touched the ground as he took off his boots. Letting his feet sweep into the soft ground beneath him.

As his toes touched the soft soil, he finally felt at home. Not the carpeted floor of his house. Not the wooden floor boards or rough concrete. The beauty of nature.

He felt the magic coursing through his veins as he breathed in the beautiful smell of dirt and fresh leaves.

He lifted his hand from his side slowly, suddenly flicking his wrist and the leaves on the floor beneath him rose.

He watched them with curiosity, wondering what they would do as if he wasn’t controlling them like a puppet. Slowly, he moved his hand, as if wiping something out of the air, except this movement made the floating leaves spin. They started slowly, flowing with the speed of Brian’s hand movements. Brian held both hands at shoulder length, his arms stretched out with a soft bend. He spun in a circle and couldn’t help the smile on his face.

He stilled, yet let the leaves spin around him like a glass suncatcher reflecting rainbows around a room.

He decided to focus on things other than the leaves, stretching his flowing power to the roots of trees bellow his feet until he could feel every leaf, tree and twing in the park.

He felt small feet running around, assuming little kids running around while two waits stood near by. He felt someone’s feet resting on the ground seated on a park bench. He felt two people walking slowly side by side. 

Their weren’t many people in the park, which was surprising because a lot of people tended to enjoy the autumn afternoon in the park.

But the last presence shocked him. They were only a step or two outside his hidden area, and may possibly be able to see him. Brian heard a twig snap and quickly willed the leaves to fall, as if a sudden pour of rain.

He sprinted out of the park as fast as he could, trying not to look behind him so the person couldn’t catch a glimpse of his face, although his hair was a dead giveaway.

He saw his friend Roger wave goodbye to some other guy, wondering what Roger was doing here, as usually on a Friday afternoon he was taking some girl home.

Brian watched trees whizz past him until he’d crossed the road and was a safe distance away from the park, his boots held loosely in his hand. He quickly put them on, the rough cement hurting his feet.

He walked along the stretching street, his house being a block away. The sun was setting now, a sight that never failed to make Brian happy.

Ahead of him, he saw a boy leave a house. His shoulders were drooped in a way to show he was upset.

As Brian inches closer, he recognized the boy to be his friend, Tim. 

“Hey Tim!” Brian called, jogging slightly to meet the boy. 

When Brian looked in Tim’s eyes, he didn’t look as upset as the rest of his body suggested. His eyes were filled with what looked like guilt.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, furrowing his brownin concern.

“Tell Freddie I’m sorry.” Tim muttered, not answering the question.

Brian had heard Tim talk about his best friend before, he’d briefly met Freddie, but he wouldn’t know what to say. “Why? What happened.”

“He- it’s personal. I can’t say. But he confided in me, and I feel so bad.”

“Why? Because you didn’t support him?” Brian concluded, hoping that wasn’t the case. 

“No! I did, the thing is he really needs someone there for him. Especially admitting, what he admitted, to me may have helped him admit it to himself. He needs someone to confide in.” Tim ranted.

Brian processed this, before wondering what the problem was.

“And why can’t you?”

“Because I’m leaving!” Tim rushed out.

Brian’s eyes widened, and suddenly he was aware of the cooling night. Tim had been his friend for years, and he was leaving? His throat was dry. It wasn’t his life, he wasn’t aware of what Tim was going through, although he was upset his friend was moving on.

“Oh.”

They stood in silence, Brian getting increasingly colder.

“I-I’ll let him know.” Brian finally spoke, startling the both of them.

Brian placed a hand on his friends shoulder, before pulling him into a hug. They stood there, warm in each other’s embrace before they decided they needed to leave.

“I’ll see you around, yeah?” Brian asked hopefully.

“I hope so.” Tim smiled, before taking off in the opposite direction, brushing past Brian.

He stood in the middle of the path, looking up at what he supposed was Freddie’s house, a glowing yellow light showed a silhouette of a boy sitting at a desk, swaying slightly.

Brian collected himself before walking home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is my first Queen fic!
> 
> So if you didn’t get it, John has invisibility (and phasing which will be introduced at a later stage), Roger can control time, Freddie can hypnotize people with his voice and Brian can control nature.
> 
> Kudos and comments are always appreciated! I can’t wait to pick up this story!


	2. The Invisible Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bullies are easier to deal with when they’re not worth your time.  
> Roger likes jumping in puddles, but not accidentally kicking things he can’t see.

Brian dropped his bag onto the bench with a sigh. He hadn’t sat in the cafeteria for a while now, spending most of his break times in either the library, music room or a science lab. It’s, not that he hated socializing, or the cafeteria, it’s just that he had much more things to do. Like work on a song on his guitar or complete physics homework.

He hadn’t expected it to change much, as he’d sat down with Tim a few weeks prior. The only thing different was that some groups were missing members, and some groups had a few more people.

“Brian? Right?” A voice snapped Brian’s head up.

A boy he’d seen around quite a bit loomed over him. His black hair reached to his shoulders as he smiled down at Brian. He quickly put a name to the face.

“Yeah, and you’re Freddie?”

Freddie nodded. He eyed the chair across from him, and Brian gestured for Freddie to sit, sliding his books and papers to the side.

“Waiting on anyone?” Freddie asked.

Brian looked up at him, after closing his last book at placing it in his bag. “No, I don’t usually sit here. I’m normally in the music room of one of the science labs.”

Freddie blinked at him. “Wait, you don’t have friends?”

If Brian was drinking something, he surely would’ve choked.

“What? No I do! I just prefer to be on my own.”

Freddie nodded, chuckling.

“What about you? Where are all your friends?”

“Ah, I usually just sit with Tim, but he’s MIA. I was gonna go sit with some others but I saw you here. You and Tim were close, right?”

Brian sighed. “Yeah, Tim, Rog and I used to be tight. Well, at least in middle school. We all just kind of broke away. Rog and I are still pretty close, I just don’t like some of the people he hangs around with.” Brian nodded to a table behind Freddie, where Roger was talking with wild hand gestures.

 

Freddie looked over to the group. Quite a few people hung around them, including Dominique, Debbie, Crystal, etc. He knew Roger and Crystal to be close friends.

“Uh,” Brian started, not sure how to bring up the conversation of Tim’s leaving. He decided there was no easy way to break the news, and jumped straight to the point.

“Hm?” Freddie hummed, brows furrowed.

“Listen Fred, um. Tim spoke to me last night.” He saw Freddie stiffen, obviously afraid that Tim blabbed whatever Freddie told him. “He uh- he said to tell you he’s sorry. He’s sorry because he’s moved away and found it hard to break it to you.”

Freddie seemed relieved, yet his muscles were still tense.

“Fred-“

“When did he tell you?” Freddie asked as calmly as possible.

“I was walking home and I bumped into him.” 

“And he couldn’t tell me?”

“Because he said something happened and didn’t think it was the right time to tell you, or something.” Brian said, mumbling the last two words.

Freddie heaved a deep sigh. “Th-“

A loud slam of a hand interrupted Freddie’s sentence as both boys jumped. 

“You boys do know this is our spot, right?”

Brian flicked his eye up, matching his stare with a a glare from Paul Prenter, resident mean girl at the school. Worse was that he was male and ugly.

“And?” Brian pushed.

Paul shoved his jaw forward, as if something was obvious. “Move!”

Brian rolled his eyes, reaching for his bag. He was a very stubborn boy who hated being told what to do, but he really wasn’t in the mood to fight. 

Freddie, however-

“It doesn’t have your name on it, darling.”

Paul’s head snapped towards Freddie, yet Freddie didn’t cower.

“Don’t worry about it, Fred.” Brian said, standing up.

“It’s just a seat and there’s plenty of others.” Freddie gestured around the room.

“Fred, let it go. He’s not worth our breath.”

Freddie huffed, staying rooted to the chair. 

“Go on, shoo-shoo.” Paul jeered.

Brian snapped his head around. 

“Thanks, but we don’t need some prick telling us what to do. Come on Freddie. Let’s just leave.”

Freddie sighed, grabbing his back onto his shoulder. 

As the two walked silently side-by-side down the long corridor Freddie glanced up at Brian. 

“Thank you.” He said, and Brian was sure he’d almost missed it. He wasn’t quite sure what it was for anyway. “For Tim, I mean. Thanks for telling me.”

Brian smiled, “no problem.”

~ ~ ~

Roger watched the rain pour softly outside. He heard soft patters against the window, a fast beat of a song as he tapped along with raindrops.

Roger loved the rain, water droplets falling the sky and onto the ground. Feeding thirsty plants and making patterns of water trails & puddles on the cement paths and roads.

Roger never understood how one could call such a beautiful scene miserable. Unless of course, they were talking about the mood others displayed. The low energy of the room. Maybe because the sun wasn’t feeding them energy like rechargeable batteries, or people were pondering on the driest way to get home that afternoon.

Roger’s eyes searched the classroom of kids. They all sat silently, looking gloomily down at their work, not the constant bubbly chatter the classroom usually held. Then again — it was a Monday afternoon.

“Problem, Mister Taylor?” The teacher called, his eyes searching Roger’s from above his glasses frame.

“No, sir.” Roger sighed, turning back to his work, wondering if the weather was to blame for the gloomy mood or Mr Tierh.

 

Roger hadn’t been expecting anything out of the ordinary to happen today, or any day soon. He was walking through the park, something that had become a habit as of recently.

He was walking along in a daze, paying no mind to his surroundings. He wasn’t expecting anyone to be out in the rain, even though he didn’t mind himself.

He lazily spun around in a puddle, splashing water outwards in ever which way. He smirked playfully, lifting a food to drive through a deep puddle.

Yet as his foot flew through the water, making a satisfying wave of water from the sides of his foot, his leg collided with something solid.

He squinted in the rain, hoping to God he hadn’t gone blind and didn’t miss anyone in front of him.

But despite the loud “oof,” that rang out, which he was sure it didn’t belong to him, there was no evidence of him bumping into anyone.

He held a hand out — surely he was crazy — and tried to feel if anything was ahead of him.

To his utter shock and amazement, Roger’s hand came into contact with a hard surface. Although his hand wasn’t on it long enough to identify the the item as it slipped from the weight of his hand.

But the object became visible as he watched it fall from mid air to the ground.

Roger knelt down to see the object clearly. It was a book, a textbook at that. He smeared rain of the cover to read the cover of the book. He read it aloud, eyebrows furrowing.

“Level 4 Physics.”

He lifted his head, still met with the pathway he was previously trudging down.

Until he saw small splashes of water, as if something — someone — was running away.

“Wait!” Roger called, leaving the mysterious textbook behind in the puddle of dirty water and raced the footstep weighted splashes, on a hunch that someone he couldn’t see was responsible for them.

He ran as fast as he could, stumbling slightly with a hand held out, sure as hell would look ridiculous to anyone, if anyone was outside.

He felt his hand brush against something and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his fingers around it in a firm fist and tug it backwards.

When a cry sounded out he realized he’d latched onto some invisible thing he thought must be the equivalent to hair. Or was hair, on someone’s head. 

“Sorry!” He rushed, letting go of the invisible hair.

He stood in silence for a moment, staring at the spot where someone was standing, he just couldn’t see them.

“There- there is someone here right? I’m not going crazy?” Roger mumbled. Whether to himself or the “person” ahead he didn’t know, he just hoped someone other than his brain would answer the question.

He stood there a few moments hearing and feeling the rain get heavier around him. It bounced off his shoulders and he was sure someone stood facing him, as water bounced off thin air.

He was afraid to blink, afraid to close his eyes and open them to the person being gone, and he wouldn’t even know it.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to hide, I won’t blab. I-“ Roger took a deep breath, eyes trained on the supposed invisible man ahead of him. Roger didn’t even know their gender, or age, or anything really. Just that there was a person, someone who could become unseeable, which meant there was someone like him.

“I-“ Roger sighed, trying to find a voice to explain he was in the same boat as them. That he had powers. That he knew what it was like to have to hide. To pretend he couldn’t do all the amazing things he could. In that respect he envies the person in front of him, being able to walk freely with their power activated, no one could see it in use because they couldn’t see him. 

But then how lonely would that feel? No one could see you. Walking around a bunch of people, trying to make friends, while you’re literally invisible. The loneliness the old saying conveyed was ahead of him. He didn’t even know if the person was stuck in that form or not, just that it would be lonely. He knew lonely.

“I’m just like you.” Roger finally breathed. Stepping closer to the invisible person and wondered if they were still standing there, yet he felt their body heat, so he assumed they were there.

“I have powers too.” He heard a breath hitch, so he pressed on, “I know how lonely it gets. I know how hard and annoying it is to keep this from everyone. To protect your family by not embracing who you truly are. I know how you feel. And you don’t need to show me who you are, I just want you to know that it’s full acceptance and understanding from me if you do.” Roger felt it was nice to let it out. To tell the person everything. Hell, he knew he couldn’t trust anyone, but someone in the same boat as him seemed like the right person. Even if he hadn’t seen their face.

He’d wanted to confide in someone for so long he didn’t know the weight it held on him until it was lifted.

He felt a little colder as the body stepped back, and Roger lifted his head and spied ahead to see if they were still there. And just as he was about to come to the conclusion that they had indeed left, he felt a weight on his shoulder.

A figure started to shift into view, until he caught the full sight of the boy ahead of him.

“John!?” Roger whispered, surprised — yet relieved — at who it was.

“Hi.” He breathed. He could see it in the boy’s eyes, he was nervous and anxious and worried, and they glistened with tears, striking out from the rain.

Roger stared into John’s green-grey orbes, until he leapt into the taller boy’s arms.

And the two stood there, hugging in the rain. A mix of emotions flying off them and they both didn’t know how to feel. They just knew that they weren’t alone. That they were alright, because there was now someone else. Someone who shared in their loneliness and suffering. Someone to talk to, and would understand.

So the two stood there, in the rain, clothes clinging to their skin and surely picking up a sickness. But they didn’t care. And that’s where they stayed, until they finally parted to leave for their houses.

When Roger walked in the door that night, he didn’t care what rude shit his father would throw at him for being home so late, drenched in cold water when winter was right around the corner.

He didn’t know what he was feeling, or what this all meant.

But he knew he was going to be okay. Because he wasn’t alone anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don’t have a regular update schedule, but I’ll try to update at least once every 1-2 weeks unless I have enough time on my hands.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	3. Laughter Ringing in the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets are harder to keep when one’s life is in danger. Roger makes a split second decision and John waits for a late Roger.

The only part of gym Roger really enjoyed, was the part where he’d confuse the hell out of people using his power.

Exhibit A, He was currently playing dodge ball, and he’d slow down every ball thrown and then speed it up suddenly. And no one would know, because about 20 other balls were zipping past and any one of them could’ve been the culprit. Every ball thrown towards Roger would slow down, as he had put a sort-of field around him. It took a lot of energy, but he’d keep it up until the members on his team had decreased and it was obvious something was going on. Then it was just down to his quick reaction time, which may or may not be sped up a little using his power.

Roger sighed as he placed his sweaty gym gear in his locker. Sweat glistened off his skin, his fingers still wrinkled as if he had a long shower. He knew it wasn’t right, using his power to his benefit. But anyone would do so if they were in his position, right? 

If you have a talent for drawing you use it, or if you’re a fast runner you don’t hold back. He tried to convince himself it was just that. Just a part of him he was lucky to have. An extra ability only very few could understand.

“Hey!” A voice suddenly whispered in Roger’s ear.

Roger jumped, showing off his magnificent falsetto in the process.

“Crystal!”

Crystal smirked at him. “We’re going out to a rave at 6 tonight if you wanna come along?”

Roger sighed and nodded at his friend. He thought for a second, wondering if he had plans. His hand snuck into the inside of his shirt subconsciously. He was planning to be in the music room for a while, trying out some new sounds. He guessed he could always leave that to another day. Besides, he wasn’t going to be jamming out til 6:00pm.

But then he remembered he and John were going to hang out that afternoon. They hadn’t really had a proper conversation since Monday’s incident, though it was only Wednesday.

Roger flicked his eyes up to a waiting Crystal. “Sorry, I have plans tonight.”

“That’s fine!” Crystal laughed, nudging Roger’s shoulder. “See you later then.”

Roger laughed, waving his friend goodbye.

 

The music room was empty, which Roger was thankful for. He liked to bash out on the school drum kit without being told he was being too noisy, while some prissy violin student played a careful song. Not that Roger had anything against violin students — he respected them just like any other person who could play an instrument — just he preferred rock n’ roll, and their musical art was a lot more classical.

He started with a beat and progressed from there, ending up on what would’ve been a killer drum solo. 

He hadn’t noticed anyone was in the room until he heard clapping. His eyes opened and he turned his head to the source of the sound. Two familiar eyes looked into his.

“Freddie! Brian!” Roger cheered, stepping off from his stool and walking over to the pair.

“That was absolutely fantastic, darling!” Freddie said gleefully.

Roger smiled at Freddie and turned to Brian, wondering what the man he hadn’t played with in a year thought of his improvements.

Instead of a comment, Brian enveloped the man in a hug. Roger smiled and hugged him back.

“I miss playing with you.” He said in his ear.

Roger smiled, “me too.”

Freddie’s loud clap woke the both up from their hug. “Not that I love this fantastic reunion of two people who literally see each other everyday, but I propose a jam session. One song, Roger’s pick, and we just play to our hearts content.”

Roger couldn’t say no to that proposal, leaving Brian’s arms to smile at Fred.

“Get your vocal chords ready lads, we’re playing ‘Superstition’ by the one and only Stevie Wonder”

Roger watched Freddie’s eyes bulge out of his head. “I-uh-don’t sing. I play piano though.” Freddie murmured, completely opposing his personality.

Roger frowned, and saw Brian do so too, before shrugging and turning toward his instrument.

“Uh, how will we do this without a bass player?” Brian asked.

“It’s just for fun, darling. We’ll sub in missing instruments with what we’ve got.” Freddie smiled, turning to his piano. Roger shook his head, smiling as he twirled a drumstick through his fingers.

In the end, he didn’t know how long they were there for, only that Roger had more fun than whatever drunken rave his friends had made it into.

Roger’s eyes flicked to the clock in the far away corner of the room, seeing his still had over an hour before he would meet with John.

It was when Brian played a riff to a song, and Roger screamed the lyric “Well, shake it up baby now!” when Roger assumed it all went to shit. It wasn’t the song itself — an amazing song by the Beatles which he loved — but more, everything that came after that.

Neither boy in the room had a drop of alcohol, but were all somehow drunk on fun that anyone walking passed would never have thought the 3 boys were sober.

“Come on and work it on out,” became, “come on and fuck it on out!” and the boys cracked up. It wasn’t until Freddie sang a lyric when the whole room halted. 

Freddie clicked his fingers as fast as he could, daring not to look at his friend’s faces. In fear, he spun around quickly, forgetting he was beside a tall shelf — which he hit, and it swayed the opposite way before swinging back toward Freddie and wasn’t stopping until it hit the ground.

And that’s when Roger sprung into action. His eyes — instinctively seeing in slow motion, a thing they tended to on their own in times of danger — watched the cabinet fall, and he dropped his drumsticks which clattered loudly to the floor. He held his hands in front of him before the wooden structure fell and squashed Freddie to death.

He hadn’t even thought twice about it, his friend was in danger and he had the ability to help. He noticed the wide eyes on him without turning his head, as he concentrated on what he was doing.

The cabinet hung one foot above Freddie, somewhat floating about him. Brian’s and Freddie’s eyes were staring at the blonde after they broke from their stupor.

“Move.” Roger grunted and Freddie ran from under the heavy cabinet held in mid air.

Roger pondered for a second, whether he’d reverse the cabinet back to standing, or “press play” and let the cabinet fall. Reversing would take a lot of energy, but letting it fall would cause unwanted attention.

Roger, with his last remaining strength, forced the cabinet to stand straight.

And Roger’s arms fell after that, hands surely looking as if they were soaked in water for years. 

His eyes were screwed shut, head positioned towards his lap. He was wondering if he could just make a break for it, escape the two. Then he’d just have to avoid them for the rest of his life.

But, he had to make sure they wouldn’t tell. They couldn’t tell, otherwise he’d have to leave and never come back.

“Uhh..” Really Roger? That’s all you could come up with. Roger’s eyes flew over his friend’s, trying to read an expression. Brian’s was analysing, yet confused and shocked. Like he was surprised, yet trying to work out the situation. At least it wasn’t fear. Freddie’s was half shock and half fear. Roger was trying to place if the fear was from nearly being crushed to death by a heavy cabinet or from Roger. Roger hoped it was the former.

“H-how did you do that?” Brian finally spoke, seemingly finished with judging the situation.

“I dunno.” Roger said, slightly sighing that he wasn’t getting any ridicule or death threats. “I’ve always been able to.”

“Wow.” Brian breathed.

It was uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, Roger too scared to move.

“So, you’re one of those supernatural humans?” Freddie said, coming out of his shock.

Roger sighed again, thankful Freddie wasn’t scared of him — at least he hoped — and that Fred didn’t use the word “freak” or “creature”.

“Uh, yeah.” He answered. Tension was thick in the air, and Roger was too afraid to speak.

“That’s so cool!” Freddie exclaimed. Freddie winced from the fake tone of his voice. Roger didn’t notice.

“Thanks.” Roger smiled, not daring to tell Freddie that it wasn’t as ‘cool’ as he thought.

“What’s your power?” Brian asked.

Roger smiled softly, thankful for how easy they were taking this.

“Time bending.”

Brian’s and Freddie’s eyes both widened. “Wait, you can time travel?” Freddie gasped.

Roger blinked, registering the question before laughing.

“Oh no, bending. I can bend time, but not necessarily control it or anything.”

Brian and Freddie gave him blank stares.

“Uh...” Roger huffed. “Basically I can slow things down, speed them up, pause them, and bring them to their past or normal states, but I can’t time travel. So I can control time but only in the present.”

Brian seemed to understand, Freddie was still lost. Roger admits he would have to if he was in their place.

“Um.” Roger thought, before picking up a scrunched ball of lyrics from the ground.

He threw the ball in the air, before pausing it mid throw. “I can pause time around an object,” he let the ball of paper rise, yet slowly. “Slow down time,” he then sped up the the paper, watching it drop to the floor at lightning speed. “Speed it up,” he picked up the ball, unraveling it and holding it out. The wrinkles in the paper soon disappeared, and then the writing, and the lines along with it. “And reverse it.”

“Mainly, I can affect time around an object, but I can’t bring it through time.”

Freddie nodded, clapping his hands. “That was quite a show, darling. Care to show us some more magic tricks?”

Roger cracked a smile, happily obliging to the request.

Later, Roger looked at the time having lost track. Funnily enough.

“Shit.”

~ ~ ~

John had began to lose hope. He stared into the clear water of the lake, solemn expression on his reflection’s face and surely on his own. Roger hadn’t shown d it had been almost an hour. The sun was setting, and John watched the colourful scene through the water reflection. It was as amazing as any sunset. Magnificent colours of pinks and golds mixing and fitting together perfectly. Once silver dots appeared in the body of water, he stood from the bench.

It disappointed him more than he would show. It wasn’t a date, hell, it wasn’t anything really. Except Roger was the first person he could relate to. The first person who understood his dread and loneliness. The first who cared. And he didn’t show. He wasn’t here.

It wasn’t a date or anything, but John still felt rejected and heartbroken. He heard himself sniffle and tried desperately to hold it back. He wasn’t going to cry over it — he had only met the boy last week — it wasn’t that big a deal.

But it is. Because he was the first person who understood him. Because he was the only person with the ability to know the real him. Because even though they’d only known eachother for less than a week, John felt Roger knew him better than anyone in his life.

So he had the right to be upset. 

He kicked a rock in frustration, it landing in the lake with a satisfying plop. But it didn’t really make him feel better. If anything, it made him feel worse. He just didn’t know why.

He huffed, spinning on his heel to leave the park.

He nearly jumped. Roger was there, pink in the face, hunched over as he heaved breaths. John shook himself out of his shock, wondering how he managed to be so silent when he clearly ran to get here.

“I’m so sorry, John.” He managed through puffs of air. John remained still, waiting for an explanation before leaving him alone for an hour.

“Why?” Was all John could ask. He didn’t know what he was asking for. Why did you leave me? Why are you here now? Why did it take so long? Why did you bother? An answer to any of those would be appropriate.

“C-can we sit down?” He puffed.

John glared at him for a moment before looking into his eyes. He looked scared or upset, and that was why he was late.

John didn’t say anything but sat back down on the bench. He heard Roger sigh before he felt the seat dip from the extra weight.

He stared ahead, waiting for an explanation before he heard a sob. His head snapped towards the older boy, before immediately wrapping his arms around him. 

Roger breathed in his shirt, trying to stifle his sob. But his eyes trailed heavy waterfalls down his cheeks. John’s shirt began to soak up Roger’s hot tears. He sniffed.

John said nothing but gently stroked Roger’s hair, trying to calm the boy down.

“What happened?” He whispered, and Roger told him everything.

“I was so scared, John. And I was so lucky with the way they reacted.”

John smiled against the boy, before pulling away. “Well, with all revelations today, I suppose you should show me yours.”

Roger, eyes puffy yet completely void of tears, smirked at him, standing up and disappearing behind John.

John stood, waiting for Roger. Again. And for a split second he thought he had left again, before Roger appeared, gripping onto something for dear life.

John stared at the object in his arms. It was large, about the size of a head and no doubt heavy. John’s eyes furrowed as he looked at the boy. “A rock?”

“Shhh!” Roger shushed him. John shut his mouth, but continued glaring at the boy as if Rog though John was an idiot.

Roger stuck out his tongue in concentration, before swinging his arms back for force and letting the rock go into the water.

John closed his eyes and prepared himself for the large wave of water to inevitably come his way — yet nothing happened.

John slowly opened his eyes, fingers slowly unclenching until he look at the water. Above it, a large rock sat frozen in mid-air.

John’s mouth fell open, as he walked forward towards the edge of the lake. His toes brushed the damp grass and he lifted his hand to the rock. He wasn’t tall enough, and stood back straight before he leaned into the water at the sound of Roger’s raspy chuckle. 

“Wha- ho-“ John tried, yet he couldn’t finish a sentence. 

Roger gave a sheepish smile, and nodded his head towards the rock. John watched it fall into the water, and prepared himself to turn to Roger soaking wet.

But again, the inevitable didn’t come, and instead John watched the water slowly spread apart.

He reached a hand out to touch it, an amazing display of crystals shimmering as they exploded slowly into the night, tiny stars dancing among them. The water peteled out, reminding John much of a flower as an experimental hand reached out to touch the delicate substance. His hand went straight through at first contact, then as he tried again he moved the water droplet.

John’s grin was so wide and genuine, Roger could see the little gap between his teeth and almost lost focus on the water.

As the splash slowly grew, he watched John dance about on the grass, long hair gently touching the water droplets as he spun in circles. He had no care of who would see him or how wet it was, he was happy to be there, at night, with Roger.

John stopped his dance right infront of roger as the wave of water was starting to become larger and more collected than speckles.

Roger smiled, twisting his hand so the water returned to the lake and the stone sat above it.

Roger let out a loud “oof!” as John wrapped him in a tight hug.

“Thank you.” John whispered in Roger’s ear, and he melted into the embrace, dropping his hands to circle John’s waist. 

But Roger only realized this mistake when he and John were both soaked in water.

“Roger!”

~ ~ ~

“Hey!” John looked up, supposing the call wasn’t for him but he recognized the voice.

When he saw blue eyes approaching him he realized the boos was for him.

Roger sat down next to John, who was leaning against a tree around the back of the school. Quiet and secluded.

“Waiting on someone?” Roger asked, spying over to the book in John’s hands. John was partially reading the book and partially writing — or so it looked, as John sat there daydreaming.

“Nope,” John popped the ‘p’. He closed the book and laid it in his lap. “Just me.”

“Must get lonely.” Roger frowned.

John shrugged, a soft, yet pained, smile resting on his face. “‘M used to it.”

Roger’s frown deepened. “Well you shouldn’t be.”

Then, Roger stood, brushing the dirt from the back of his pants and taking a step forward, and John was almost sure he was going to leave when he held out his hand.

“Join us?” Roger asked, nodding his head to the hallway door where Brian and Freddie stood.

Freddie noticed the table the boys took as John placed his belongings on the table and Roger dropped onto the bench. John — whom he’d just met, a quiet boy but seemed quite lively with Roger and Freddie was sure once the boy and him got closer, he’d be like that with him too — was chatting with Roger carelessly, and Roger nodding along enthusiastically.

Freddie glanced at Brian, who shrugged and sat down next to Roger. Freddie sighed, sitting in the seat, making sure he was sitting on the edge to make a quick leave.

In no time, Paul was at the table again, wicked smile and an angry look in his eyes.

“I thought I told you, this is my table. Fuck off.”

Freddie saw John’s eyes widen as his hand went for his bag. Roger frowned, obviously being “too popular” — dubbed by Tim — to be told to fuck out of someone else’s seat before. 

Freddie looked over at Brian, before sighing and reaching for his bag. He stopped when he felt a hand on his.

“It doesn’t have your name on it.” Brian smirked.

Freddie laughed out, and soon Roger and John we’re laughing with him. Paul glared down at Brian, face screwing into one of anger, face red as he felt his friends behind him shift.

He drew back his hand, closing it into a fist and slamming it down into the curly-haired boy’s face.

Although, it didn’t, as it came into contact with Roger’s palm. Roger clamped his hand around Paul’s fist, twisting it before pushing him away.

Paul growled, clutching his wrist. He lifted it up again, but he caught a watchful eye over by the door. He growled again, before twisting on his heel and beckoning his friends to follow him.

The four boys looked at each other, before breaking into hysterics again. 

Freddie smiled at his group of friends. He didn’t know where Tim was, and as upset and angry as he was for him leaving, he couldn’t help but thank him for it. Freddie never would’ve found this amazing group of friends otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait!! I couldn’t decide how to do this chapter, but I ended up throwing it all together. I’m still not happy with the first part, but the rest is okay. I have a little writers block for the next chapter but I’ll see how quickly I can get it out!!
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments and Kudos are always appreciated! <3


	4. The Hitman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumours spread like wildfire, and some don’t like the truth in them.  
> John see’s the hunter again and the boys get given a music assignment which Freddie is not on board with.
> 
> TW: slight gory descriptions (someone is poisoned)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In dedication to the Deaklings Unite gc, and especially Jade (BrianMaysLegs on ao3, check her fics out!) Who is my biggest fan. >:)))  
> Ily guys sm 🥺
> 
> I’m not too happy with how I wrapped this chapter up as it happened a bit fast for my liking, but I hope you still enjoy it!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy this chapter! Kudos and comments are always appreciated!!

John’s eyes opened, light shining into his eyes. He hummed, rubbing his eyes and lifting is head from — shit.

John sat up straight, his cheek suddenly stinging from being ripped off the book cover. His eyes darted around the room. The room was too bright as his eyes slowly adjusted, and he aimed his head towards where he was sure the clock was, squinting as he read the hands.

He jumped backwards, chair clattering loudly behind him. He didn’t worry about the noise, no one was here anymore besides the librarian and the cleaner. He swiftly snatched up his bag and sprinted from the library, noticing the librarian glaring at him on the way out.

He finally took a breath once outside the library, and hurried around the maze of the school. The school was about 5 minutes from locking all doors, so that meant only one was open. God, his parents are going to kill him.

John knew he could leave the confinement’s of the school. To put it simply, he could phase through objects. He hasn’t in years though, he’d developed a fear of it.

Every time he’d phased, something bad happened. If he didn’t have this ability, his mum wouldn’t have a scar above her eye. His sister wouldn’t have broken her leg. His dad...

John shook his head, desperately ridding himself of the thought. No phasing. That was his rule.

It was then in that dark hallway, strong smell of cleaning product clinging to the air, that he realized he wasn’t alone. 

It wasn’t the angry heels of the librarian, or the loud squeak of the cleaner’s trolley. No, it was a soft shuffle, much like...

John turned down the next hallway, sprinting along as he willed himself invisible. The footsteps were loud, thundering down after him. He took a turned, flying further and further into the school. He saw light in a classroom ahead, the sound of a vacuum cleaner filling his ears and he sprinted for his target.

He was 20 feet away when the vacuum shut off, the cleaner stepping out of the room and into the hallway. 

John drew himself to a halt, breathing heavily. The hallway was tighter than most, no lockers lining the walls. The cleaning materials were layed out in the tight hallway, blocking him from running further as the cleaner fumbled for his keys.

He heard the footsteps behind him stop. He spun around to face him. He knew they couldn’t see him. They could not see him. No way.

The hunter, he evaluated, stood at the end of the hallway, in more hunter type gear than the previous time John spotted them.

Their head was still wrapped in a black cloak, eyes seemingly glowing from the small patch the cloak didn’t cover. Their pants hung tight to their legs, a belt with many objects around it to hold it up. John eyed the silver objects, various types of weapons and utensils.

One thing was for sure, everyone of them was made to harm a supernatural being like himself.

His eyes flicked to the gloved hand of the hunter as they tilted it slightly. He caught sight of a small vial.

Upon further inspection he nearly gasped aloud. It was a silver, double ended needle. Inside, a purple liquid splashed around with the little pocket of air inside. John was horrified. If that needle so much as prick him, he’d be dead. The purple liquid was deadly to anyone like him.

‘Roger,’ he thought, eyes glued on the needle.

The cleaner behind him seemed to have found the right key, as he heard the lock of the door give a loud rattle.

As John was distracted slightly, the hunter lifted their arm, throwing the dart swiftly with precision. John blinked, the dart aimed right between his eyes.

He gasped loudly, eyes screwing shut preparing for impact. The dart was going too fast to avoid with his height, and his hand reached up to shield his face.

When he was sure it hit him, he didn’t feel anything. He heard a bang, maybe his body hitting the floor. He didn’t know. Was this what death felt like? Nothing? That dying was so painless it happened in the blink of an eye, your body too shocked to feel anything. Instead shutting down and letting you rot away. John took a breath, wondering if it were his last-

That, however, was not the case. Blame John’s mind for being scared and overdramatic. He felt his feet still firmly on the ground. His hands slowly fell from his face, eyes slowly opening. He blinked, wondering if he imagined the whole thing.

The hunter was no longer there, were they even their at all? John had only just awoken from a dream, or maybe he hadn’t? His mind playing tricks on him as he saw a hint of his worst fear weeks ago.

John breathed a sigh, spinning around to meet the cleaner who was probably down the other end of the hall.

However, that’s when the whole situation came to light. There was a hunter, they did try to hit him with a deadly dart, but they didn’t.

Instincts.

John has phased. He’d phased for the first in years. 

He sprinted toward the cleaner on the floor. Their mousy brown hair found to the sweat on their face, eyes wide and black. Their mouth was open, a white foam admitting from it. Their skin was turning a sickly pale-purple, veins popping out. John’s hands shook as he searched the body, finding the dart stuck on their neck. John slid his jumper over his shaking hand, gripping the side of the vial and flinging it across the hall. 

He then screamed. He screamed to whoever was left in the school, eyes wide and pouring with tears. His hands shook, skin red and blotchy and lips swollen. He screamed and screamed until he heard footsteps.

He didn’t know when he was lifted off the body, or when he’d found his feet and walked from the hall and out of the school. Soon, he was in his bed, wrapped in a warm blanket with his mum whispering sweet nothings in his ear as he rocked backwards.

She reminded him the poison would not kill the cleaner. He was human, and he would be fine. That it would’ve been worse if it were him. That he did everything he could and saved the man.

John knew this was all true, yet that little voice in the back of his head couldn’t help but remind him what he’d done.

He’d phased, for the first time in years. He’d phased and got someone hurt.

He was lucky this time, because he was human and he would’ve been saved. But John couldn’t help but think if it was Roger in his place. If it was Roger getting hunted. Would he have been able to stop it? 

Or worse, if Roger was in the cleaners place. That he was distracted and John was there to protect him, yet he’d phased and it hit Roger.

John didn’t sleep that night.

~ ~ ~

John met Roger that morning at the park entrance. It was cooler as the months welcomed winter, the park’s trees becoming barer by the day.

After silently walking for a few minutes, Roger decided to spark up a conversation.

“Did you hear about what happened at the school last night?” John stiffened, breath caught in his throat. “One of the cleaners were attacked.”

Roger’s face was excited as he turned to meet John’s. Not excited that something that terrible happened, but intrigued and interested in the action. This face dropped, however, when he met John’s.

“John what’s wrong?” He gasped when he saw tears roll down his face. John quickly wiped them away. 

“It’s-“ he breathed, choking on a sob. Roger led him down to a park bench, sitting him down and hugging him close to his chest.

“I was at the school last night.” John finally said. He felt Roger’s muscles tense, yet he continued to pet his hair.

“Rog,” John lifted his head to meet Roger’s eyes. Roger’s blue eyes were calming and full of concern. “It was a supernatural hunter.”

Roger went stiff, eyes wide and breath stopped. And then he started fussing over John.

“Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you did they? Oh God I’ll never forgive myself if-“

“Rog! I’m fine I-“ John’s eyes caught sight of a curly head hidden behind trees.

“Brian?” He called out, Roger turning his head.

Brian walked out from being hidden behind the trees, sheepish smile from being caught.

“Hi.” He breathed. “What are you guys doing here?”

Roger sighed, his talk with John over and he was sure it wouldn’t come up again. “On our way to school. You?”

Brian smiled, “just enjoying some flora and fauna. Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.” Roger smiled, standing up from the seat and holding a hand out for John.

“It’s growing colder, innit?” Brian said after a few minutes of silence.

Roger sighed, shaking his head to forget the conversation John and him were just sharing. “Yeah, yeah it is.”

~ ~ ~

Freddie slouched in his seat, watching the seconds on the clock tick by. His eyes flicked to John, who he — regretfully — hadn’t known he was in 2 of his classes. John’s eyes flicked back to him, smiling slightly. Freddie beamed at him, teeth on full display and watch John’s grin grow. He saw him shake his head slightly, and if they’d sat closer he would’ve heard the boy giggle.

The cleaner story had spread itself around the school in a matter of hours. The rumours grew more gruesome and far-fetched as the next. One story said the whole hallway was covered in thick, red blood. Another said the cleaner had been killed. One thing was for sure, no one knew who the attacker was.

“I bet it was that murderer who lives down Delancey. You know, the one who murdered his wife?”

“It’s got to be one of the teachers. Cleaner’s never do their jobs properly and one of them went after them.”

“You’ve got it all wrong! It has to be one of those supernatural freaks!”

Freddie dropped into his seat next to Brian, stealing a grape from Brian’s hands. “And how are you all?” Freddie smiled.

Roger and John nodded their heads, Brian muttering a, “good, good.”

“Which one of these silly rumours do you think is the craziest? Personally I think the one of him accidentally drinking bleach is the worst.”

He then noticed John covering his ears, staring down into his food. Roger stroked his back carefully.

“God, darling, what’s wrong?” Freddie looked up, concerned. Had he upset John talking about the cleaner?

“It’s okay, Fred.” He heard John breathe out as if he read his mind. “It’s just-“

He took a breath, lowering his hands yet his gaze fixed on his food. “I was there.” He whispered to Brian, Freddie and Roger.

Freddie sat back in disbelief. “H-how?” Brian asked.

John shook his head. “I fell asleep in the library. I came out late looking for an exit and stumbled upon him.”

He choked, “it was so scary. It just pisses me off how people can- people can joke about something so horrible.”

“Shh.” Roger said, stroking his back.

Freddie looked at him in disbelief. “Oh my God, darling, I’m so sorry that happened. God I’m sorry I brought it up I-“

“It’s okay Fred,” John finally lifted his face from his food. His eyes were red rimmed and Freddie wanted to engulf him in a hug if it wasn’t for these stupid tables. “It’s not your fault.”

And the bell rang, and John walked off. 

Freddie felt immensely bad, and Roger offered a smile. “He’s still shaken up. As anyone would be. Please don’t beat yourself up about it, Fred.” Roger told him before turning down to walk with John to wherever their next class was.

Freddie sighed, nodding as he and Brian walked to Physics. 

They day flew by uneventful, well for the most of it. John didn’t show for lunch but sat with Freddie, Brian and Roger in music.

Freddie smiled at John who seemed a lot happier than first break. John smiled back, turning towards the teacher. Freddie never noticed John was in his music class before 2 weeks ago when he met the boy, or maybe he noticed but never put any mind to it. He was always chatting loudly with Tim. Despite now knowing John was into music, he still had no clue what instrument he played, if he played an instrument at all.

“Your assignment,” the teacher called and Freddie trained his attention toward her, “is to write a song in groups of 3-5. The songs will be performed at the school assembly before Christmas break.”

The class murmured, some excited some nervous. “The style is to be based off one of the 10 chosen artists, which you will write an essay on them and how they inspired your piece.”

She handed out a piece of paper, with the requirements of the task and the 10 artists to choose from. “In your groups, you all will be expected to play an instrument. Depending on your chosen artist these instruments will vary.”

“And, I expect every one of you to sing.” She finished. Freddie saw John stiffen and his hand shot up.

“But Miss-“ Freddie started, protesting against the task. He couldn’t sing, everyone would know if he-

“No Freddie, all members of the group must sing. Whether a main part of the piece, backing vocals or just for harmonies. I’m sorry, it’s a requirement of the task.”

She turned back to teaching the class, “even in groups, all students will be marked individually...”

Freddie stopped listening at that point, trusting the paper in his hand to tell him the information he needed.

“It’s okay Fred.” Roger spoke. “Me and Brian-“

Brian muttered something making Roger roll his eyes.

“Brian and I, will sing the main piece. You and John can sing back up and harmonies, your voices won’t be heard.”

‘That’s not the point.’ Freddie’s head screamed. ‘I can sing, just when I do I’ll hypnotize the whole crowd and then I’ll be taken away to some lab-‘

“Okay.” Freddie sighed. The conversation was for later. He’d tell them about his ability when they were somewhere more private. Brian reacted fine to Roger, so he should be okay. John didn’t seem like he’d run off telling the world.

Freddie looked up to see Roger smile at him and face the teacher again. Freddie moved his eyes to see John scribbling notes about the assignment, and finally his eyes met Brian’s, whose eyes were watchful and curious. The boy tilted his head, to which Freddie shook his, staring into Brian’s eye to try to tell him ‘talk later.’

He didn’t know if Brian got the message, but he nodded and turned to face the teacher.

Freddie slumped back in his chair, drowning out the rest of the lesson.

~ ~ ~

“What’s happening?” Brian asked as a girl pushed into him.

Students were all flooding in one direction. The bell had just rung indicating everyone to go home, yet all students were flooding in the opposite direction to the nearest exit. Well, except the to girls who ran into Brian. 

“Paul’s threatened some kid.” She rolled her eyes. “Poor kid’s about to get bashed.” 

“Why?” Brian asked, suddenly worried.

“Apparently Paul overheard him telling his friends he was there at the cleaner accident.” And that was all the girl said, before dragging herself and her friend, whose hand was clampsed tightly in hers, out the door. A few kids filed out, but Brian was pushed along with them.

Actually, Brian tried to push through them, a fear tugging at his insides that it could be John. He met Roger who looked completely clueless. Brian simply grabbed his arm and pulled him through the crowd. He filled him in and Roger was soon tugging Brian through the crowd.

It was impossible to maneuver around people, as people were trying to reach exits to go home or to after school commitments, and then their was the swarm of people who had nothing better to than watch Paul beat up some innocent kid spreading “rumours.”

Brian was sure he was close when the students had slowed to a stop, and he could hear faint whispers. Freddie had met them somewhere along the way, already informed and had come to the same conclusion as Brian. 

Roger had pushed ahead of them, a face of pure anger on his face. Brian knew the boy had anger issues in all the years he’d known him, yet he’d never seen him as angry as he was now.

Roger pushed to the front of the pack of students, eyes glaring at Paul Ashe stepped into the little space of room the students had left spare. Brian and Freddie pushed forward in time to see Paul smirking at Roger.

“Oh look, it’s your little hero.” He chanted and a few students around him giggled. 

Brian looked at John, expecting to see him cowering like many kids in his position would. He knew how strong John was, hell he’d been there at the “cleaner accident” last night. Yet John wasn’t stable at the moment, and Brian wouldn’t have been surprised to see tear tracks down his cheeks.

Brian was surprised, however to see John standing there, emotionless. He was taller than Paul, yet still thinner. Paul would definitely be able to hurt him. John just stood, staring. He was intimidated in the slightest, or at least that’s what his facial features showed.

He’d turned his head towards Roger upon hearing the words from Paul’s lips. John’s eyes were pleading, and Brian first guessed he was asking for help. But as he stared further in John’s eyes, they seemed to be wanting Roger to go, if his eyes flicking from to the exit and the slight shake of his head indicated anything.

Roger shook his head and Brian watched John’s chest drop as he sighed.

Paul, however, took the opportunity of John being distracted to his advantage. His lifted his hand to John’s collar and threw him against the locker.

“STOP!”

It took a second for Brian to realize who yelled out, and his head turned to Roger. Roger was breathing heavy, as if he’d ran a marathon. Freddie stepped forward to press his arm to Roger’s back.

Brian didn’t feel the constant pushing on his back any longer, and took a chance to look around. True to the word Roger had just yelled, everyone had stopped. And not stopped to stare, they had actually stop. EveryTHING had stopped.

He’d ask how, but he knew of Roger’s power. And he was sure an outburst like that would take a toll on him, as any big stretch of his own power would hurt him.

After the initial shock, Brian looked ahead, assuming John would be frozen against the locker or standing out of the way unaffected by Roger, as Rog had made sure his power hadn’t affected him or Freddie.

What he was met with, however, was no one standing in his place. Just an angry Paul with his arms in front of him.

“Where’s John?” He heard Freddie speak aloud, his voice a worried tone.

Roger, after taking a breath, seemed unfazed by this, as he walked straight up to where John should be.

Freddie and Brian exchanged confused looks when Roger started feeling the air. “John?” He called out. 

John appeared suddenly, as if he’d walked through the wall.

Roger engulfed him in a hug. “Thank God you’re safe.”

“You didn’t need to worry, Rog.” John said, his gaze landing on Freddie and Brian.

“You bet your ass I’m gonna be worried. Christ, John.”

Roger pulled back suddenly. “Were you invisible, or...?”

John muttered something on Roger could hear, and Roger’s eyes lit up as if he suddenly understood something.

Freddie and Brian inched closer, until all four boys were engulfed in a hug.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” Brian started, “but I want an explanation after we get out of here.

John nodded, a smile on his face.

Roger was the first to pull away. “Now ladies, not that I don’t enjoy this hug but we have a school full of frozen kids who need unfreezing.” 

For dramatic effect, Brian supposed, Roger cracker his knuckles ahead of him, flicking his long hair off his shoulders.

He held his hands ahead of him, yet before anything happened he turned to Brian, John and Freddie. 

“Uh, one of you might need to catch me.” Roger smiled, before turning ahead.

Their faces crossed with concern, before watching eagerly to what Rog was going to do.

Roger’s eyes glued shut as he concentrated. He felt the air around him, felt the ground bellow him. He imagined the scene splayed out ahead of him, bringing it to the top of his mind. Heheard a distant clock just outside his freeze zone, and he latched onto the sound. His eyes snapped open, slightly glowing blue, and things started to change.

His hands shook slightly as everything reversed. People pushed backwards, Paul getting shoved back into the classroom, a bug flying backwards from the scene. And then the hall was empty. 

Roger’s arms fell to his side, he’d fully erased the entire scene. He took one breath of air, looking up as the home bell rang. He smiled, and fell to the floor.


End file.
